Tapestry
by How Like a Winter
Summary: Set while Ricardo is the only outsider on the Island, living in peace with Jacob, until suddenly tormented by the smoke monster. A little slash.
1. Chapter 1

AN: I promise, I really am working on another Ben piece, and a non-serious one at that. This one just demanded that I write it first. It was difficult to capture Ricardo's voice when he's more Ricardo than Richard, but I did my best.

**Tapestry**

"You spun all of this thread yourself?"

Without glancing up from the loom before him, Jacob said, "I had the time."

Peering at the strange pattern, Ricardo stepped closer to the mass of threads. While Jacob had chosen simple colors, contrasting gold and black, the pattern puzzled Ricardo the more he studied it. Though most of the threads waited to be woven, he could see how symbols that he did not recognize bordered the top. A pair of wings reached out from an encircled eye, but it did not appear to be a human eye. Seventeen long arms emanated like rays out from the eye, and Ricardo wondered Jacob meant for the eye to represent the sun, or if perhaps the odd design was simply that: a design, and nothing more. "Did you plan for it to look like that, or is it simply…?"

This time, Jacob turned around to stare at Ricardo. "Saying that this is just a design is like saying this is just an island."

Ricardo bowed his head, ashamed that he had misspoken, even unintentionally. Having only recently been a mortal, that that left him many opportunities to speak out of ignorance to someone with all the answers, like Jacob. "What do those symbols mean? What will the rest look like?"

Turning back to the tapestry, Jacob replied, "It reads, 'May the gods grant thee all that thy heart desires.' The hands you see at the end of these arms will reach out to nine mortals."

Though Ricardo wanted to ask if the hands represented some kind of gods, he withheld his questions out of fear of trying Jacob's patience. Jacob continued, "A king will sit on a throne and watch on each side. Below that, seven humans will dance to the music of a harpist. By these dancers will sit four water jugs, and in the rows underneath, laborers will harvest wheat."

Eyes wide, Ricardo gaped as he marveled at how many years Jacob would be so calmly weaving one thread after another, spending his hours standing there in solitude before the loom. In fact, Jacob had told Ricardo that he planned to send Ricardo away just as soon as others were brought to the Island, and then Jacob would be completely alone. Breaking Ricardo's thoughts, Jacob added, "That's not all of it, though."

"But why create all of this?"

"You see anything else to do?"

"The other man, who wanted me to kill you—surely after all this time you could reach some agreement?"

Sliding his fingers behind a group of the front threads, Jacob tugged them forward. Then he gently pulled down on the back fibers, bringing them through the front threads, and sighed. "Not with him, Ricardus."

Ricardo had long given up asking why the white-clad man called him by that name. Shifting slightly to the right, Jacob started again, pulling and looping until an entire row had been woven. At that point he reached for two ends of the yarn, wound them onto a spindle, and knotted it there. With the pointed end of the bobbin he beat the threads down until they lay flat and even with the other rows.

Without a word, Ricardo watched as Jacob's long fingers intertwined with the tiny filaments, sometimes as many as a dozen. Not once did he tangle them, yet spun each piece in a matter of seconds.

"I've seen that eye before," Ricardo said suddenly, surprising even himself. Though he meant not to mention it, the words slipped out unwillingly.

Jacob paused, dark chords circling each of his fingers. "Do you know what it is?"

"I have no idea. While I traveled with the man in black—" Ricardo still knew no other name for him—"I dreamed of that eye, staring at me. It did not blink, but I heard whispers around me. Soon after, I woke."

"According to myth, it shields against evil. How strange, that you saw it in a dream…." Jacob's pale fingers resumed their dance along the duotone strings.

"Why did you choose this design?"

This time Jacob did not reply, and Ricardo understood that he had used up all his questions for now. At times, Jacob elaborated for up to a number of hours, but without warning he would cease talking, refusing to speak again, unless he came into contact with the man in black. Often, they conversed in whispers to one another, and a couple of times the other man raised his voice to the point of shouting, but Jacob never did. Once the man in black lifted his hand as if to slap Jacob, but of course neither of them could harm the other. In those moments, Ricardo longed more than ever for some other human like him on the Island, so that he would not have to merely sit and observe the interaction between these two mysterious immortals. Though gifted with immortality as well, Ricardo acknowledged that he hardly belonged in the same category of immortal as Jacob and the man in black.

Through the remainder of the day, Jacob continued to weave, and at sunset he sent Ricardo from the lair. "Find something to eat," he suggested, waving a hand nonchalantly. Presumably, as immortals, neither of them had to do so, but Ricardo did prefer the old habit, and chose not to question Jacob about the abrupt dismissal.

For a few minutes, Ricardo just admired the view of the sky, such vivid colors a welcome distraction from the monochrome of Jacob's abode. As water rolled against the shore, it reminded him of his old home, and how he and Isabella walked under the sunsets of the Canary Islands. But with every gentle crash of the waves, the hole caused by her absence ached more intensely until he had to turn away.

So, he asked himself, what did he want to eat? Too tired to hunt, he entered the forest in search of coconut or some other fruit. But then he paused, eyes darting from one tree to another, as whispers filled the air around him. He swung around, torch in hand, and none other than Isabella emerged out of thin air behind him.

Gritting his teeth, Ricardo turned and ran as fast as his legs could carry him. As much as it pained him to admit it, he knew what possessed that form, what stalked him despite Jacob's warnings. Leaves crunched under his heel as he ran, panting with effort as something clicked and hissed at him. "Leave me alone!" It traveled the whole Island in search of entertainment—how had it _known_ that Ricardo would be out that night, and where he would be?

Suddenly Ricardo gasped and stopped. Before him stood his dead wife, again, the corner of her mouth turned up as if his horror amused her. Voice breaking in desperation, he demanded, "Why do you haunt me still?"

"What do you mean, Ricardo?"

When she stepped closer, face nearly touching his, he recoiled in disgust. "Get away from me. You are not real!"

"Not real?" She laughed scornfully, and it sounded foreign from her lips. "What would convince you, then?" Little by little her clothing faded away into smoky tendrils, and those floated into the darkness around them. As Ricardo stared in shock, Isabella thrust her arms around his back, pulling herself to him. His heart pounded and he attempted to jerk away or force her off, but both times she clung to him with superhuman strength.

Ricardo shut his eyes against at least the sight of Isabella—no, it wasn't even Isabella, but one who masqueraded in her corpse—taunting him. _I am immortal, but this thing must see that as a way to torment me more_. "You're a monster," he growled, pulling against the fierce grip, and Isabella silenced him by pressing her mouth against his. Her lips on his sent tingles throughout his body, tiny shocks of pleasure in every part of him, and then he felt the same cold fire burning that he'd felt when he attempted to murder Jacob. The sensation didn't occur anywhere in his skin; it seemed to spread in his mind, like the sensation of swooning or becoming lightheaded.

Breaking away to glare at Ricardo, she said, "Is this real enough for you?" The icy tone contrasted with her warm lips as they trailed down to his collarbone, teeth periodically grazing cords of muscle.

Unable to fight instinct, Ricardo inwardly cursed his body's response as his breathing quickened, and he shivered when her hand stroked the hair at the nape of his neck. Then, instead of trying to touch his face anymore, her hands tugged at his shirt, hard enough that the collar dug the skin at the back of his neck and it might have hurt if so many other sensations weren't pouring through him. While his blood heated with desire, his stomach knotted at the sickening reality of the situation, and fury built up uncontrollably, hazing his vision.

Empowered by rage, he thrust all his strength against Isabella, pinning her back against a tree. Were it possible, Ricardo would gladly have torn the man in black to pieces, dismembered him limb by limb for committing the blasphemy of using Isabella for such twisted purposes. Since he couldn't do either of those, he locked his fingers around her slim neck and squeezed with all the force he could muster from the rage, lifting her off her feet and slamming her into the side of the tree.

"How dare you do this to me! How dare you do this to _her!_" he screamed, punctuating the demand by repeatedly smashing her head back into the wood.

However, the strength of his wrath could not quite match the otherworldly power of the smoke monster. Fingers wrapped around his, Isabella pried him loose from her throat. She shoved him away, slipping into the form of the man in black, and sank to the ground while gulping hoarsely for air. As Ricardo staggered backward and weakness overwhelmed him, his body cried out for him to rest as he sprinted out of the jungle and towards the beach.

As the aftermath of the adrenaline rush caught up with him, he gasped for breath, and thoughts of what had just taken place whirled through his mind at a dizzying pace. Never in his life had he so desperately longed to kill someone, when yelled at by the cruel slave masters or even whipped. No, in those cases he had already lost everything, and they could not break an already broken man. But now, as he had finally begun to heal from the devastating loss of his wife, the smoke monster reawakened every emotion that Ricardo had so painstakingly buried. Only one other time in his life had he attacked someone physically out of unbridled rage, and in that instance, his disregard for reason had caused a grievous mistake. But the way he felt now, the weak and helpless fury, made him remember that wretched night, when a doctor had denied him the medicine with which he could save the life of his wife. _The monster should fear what I will do to him. _Yes, the monster should fear the revenge to come indeed. No one hurt him like that without suffering for it.

Arriving at the water's edge, Ricardo stopped and bent over, hands on his knees. The telltale clicks of the smoke monster had long faded, and Ricardo needed a few minutes to compose himself before approaching Jacob. He didn't appreciate such displays of emotion like the way Ricardo's eyes shone with unshed tears, or the torrent of oaths begging that he speak them, and Ricardo could not afford to provoke Jacob's retribution as well.

So he swallowed a sigh of disappointment when the familiar voice called out, "What happened out there? You look like you've seen a ghost."

The straw-haired man sauntered over to Ricardo, who turned his pale face towards Jacob. "Hey. I asked you what happened." His tone lost a bit of the usual indifference.

Fighting for some semblance of calm, Ricardo struggled to steady his own voice. "I…I did see a ghost. It followed me into the jungle, it—please, let us continue this in the statue." His heart raced with urgency as he realized that even with Jacob by his side, he would hardly be immune if it chose to return. Now, it dawned on Ricardo that he had probably only escaped from the smoke monster because it had allowed that to take place. He envisioned the monster looming over him in an invisible form, silently laughing at him.

Jacob shook his head. "We can talk about it right here." When he reached towards Ricardo's shoulder to offer support, the Spaniard flinched away.

"Please—the smoke monster wishes to kill me, but it cannot, so it tortures me…." Ricardo's chest heaved as the tears threatened to spill from his eyes. He did not know how to describe the entire story to Jacob, and would not have wanted to even if he could.

For a moment, Jacob froze, and then narrowed his eyes. "Go back to the statue. I'll take care of this." Without another word, he strode towards the jungle, as if he already knew just where to find the smoke monster.

Knowing better than to linger, Ricardo headed for the shelter, and once inside he had no choice but to await Jacob's return. Glancing around the room, he noticed that Jacob had progressed further on the tapestry. It calmed Ricardo to study the intricate pattern, distracted him from his fear, and his ragged breathing soon steadied. Lost in his thoughts, he must have stood there for hours staring at the work of art, and gave a start when the sound of footsteps suddenly grew at the entrance of the cave. "Jacob?"

His heartbeat quickened when the intruder did not reply, but Ricardo sighed in relief as Jacob entered. Jacob obviously didn't share Ricardo's reassurance, though; without a word, he approached the mass of threads at the loom and slid his fingers in as if he'd never left. But he did not spin the filaments evenly as before, instead jabbing fingers erratically through loops and ties. Ricardo watched Jacob's fingers thrust in and out frantically, and eventually they slipped, resulting in a knot that he yanked at in exasperation. "_Damn_."

Never before had Ricardo witnessed the immortal so frustrated over such a small incident. Jacob stalked over to the chair in the corner of the room and sat down, rocking back and forth, clearly irritated but unwilling to explain why.

Finally he said, "Don't worry about the smoke monster. As long as I'm alive, he won't trouble you again."

"He will not come to me again?"

"Even if he did, it wouldn't matter. You won't be seeing a repeat of tonight." Jacob clasped his hands on his lap and leaned his head against the back of the chair.

Ricardo stared at Jacob for a long time, waiting for him to give an explanation. When none came, Ricardo turned and retreated to his quarters in the back of the shelter.

Devoid of almost anything that one would find in a normal bedroom, it held nothing but a lantern, a cot on which he slept, and another one of those odd tapestries hanging over the stone wall. Lying on the cot, he attempted to sleep, but could not shake the image of the smoke monster in Isabella's form when he shut his eyes. Eventually, though, he did slip away into uneasy, vague nightmares. As the hours stretched on, he shifted from one position to the next, turning his head from one side to the other, until a sudden noise that could have come either from either his mind or outside the room jolted him back into the waking world.

Jerking up, he blinked rapidly until his eyes focused. The room was blessedly empty, free of any unwanted visitors. Though Jacob had promised that Ricardo would no longer be plagued by the smoke monster, and Ricardo did not suspect Jacob of lying, nothing could not banish all fear of the smoke monster just yet. Curious as to whether Jacob had made the sound, and perhaps wanted him for something, Ricardo left his room, treading lightly so as not to bother the other man.

As Ricardo reached the main room, he found Jacob still in the chair, the fire no longer crackling in the chilly room. Now, Jacob's head rested on the tips of his fingers as he rocked back and forth, unaware of Ricardo's presence. Every now and then the old wood of the chair creaked, no doubt the reason for the sound that had awoken Ricardo, who gasped slightly as he noticed a drop of blood running down the back of Jacob's hand.

Jacob's head snapped up, and Ricardo saw that Jacob's forehead gleamed with sweat that matted his face and hair, tinted red in the spot where he must have perspired blood. "What are you doing here?" The rasp of his voice was like metal scraping against metal.

"I heard a noise, and came to investigate. I am sorry; I did not wish to disturb you."

"Don't look so scared." Already, Jacob had regained composure in his words, but his haggard face betrayed the casual tone.

"Jacob, what did you do to make the smoke monster agree not to harm me?"

When Ricardo searched Jacob's eyes, it occurred to him that they were not quite as apathetic as they appeared to Ricardo at first. Instead, as they stared straight ahead listlessly under drooping lids, Ricardo also noticed dark circles underneath that revealed fatigue, an exhaustion that rivaled the anger of the man in black. "I spoke to him."

"And that was all?"

"No."

It surprised Ricardo that Jacob answered his questions, and Ricardo doubted that this would continue for much longer. "What else, then?"

"We made a deal."

"Is it this deal that troubles you?"

"That 'troubles' me?" Jacob snorted and sat forward in his chair. "I imagine things haven't been too easy for you, but nothing in your past life could even begin to compare to what has to be done. But I'll live—I always do."

Ricardo's eyes narrowed in fury. "Did you watch helplessly as the woman you loved wasted away to disease? Were you condemned to burn in hell for a sin you never meant to commit? ¡No sabes nada!" He began a string of curses before halting, realizing what he had just said to the smoke monster's counterpart. Eyes widening in dismay, he stepped away from the chair, hands raised in a gesture of apology. "I-I did not mean…." He trailed off, not knowing just how he could even begin to plea for mercy.

Waving his hand dismissively, Jacob said, "Go back to sleep, Ricardus. Don't look for me tomorrow—I leave at sunrise and won't return until nightfall."

Amazed that he walked away unscathed, Ricardo returned to his room and considered how much longer he would remain in Jacob's cave before others would arrive at the Island, and if he would indeed be safe from the smoke monster. Although it provided sufficient shelter, he could not deny the growing sense of monotony and secrecy that haunted the cave, or how desperately he wished to leave.

At first, he wondered what Jacob could possibly have to do in this agreement with the smoke monster, but realized a moment later how truly thankful he was that he would probably never know.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Thank you so much for all the encouragement from you guys. I couldn't figure out for the longest time what the man in black would actually want Jacob to do since he can't hurt Jacob physically, but when I considered how LOST often has religious parallels, that opened up a realm of possibilities. I also inserted a little backstory theory of my own, since the cannon hasn't given one yet.**

* * *

**2**.

Not one ray of sunlight could penetrate the thick, windowless cave walls, so Ricardo never had much sense of the time when he awoke. That morning, only the sudden thud of wood against wood startled him into consciousness. Peering outside his quarters, he glimpsed Jacob dropping one more log on the fireplace and then probing the flames with a stick. True to form, Jacob did not waver one moment, preparing to meet with the man in black like it was business as usual.

Stepping outside his quarter, Ricardo asked, "What must you do for him?"

Jacob looked up at the Spaniard with a blank expression. "See you tonight, Ricardus." Standing to his feet, Jacob exited the room, clearly not interested on shedding any light on the mysterious deal that he had arranged with the other man.

Staring after Jacob, Ricardo considered why Jacob had entered Ilana's room. Why would the little girl, born on the _Black Rock _and saved by Jacob when the shiparrived at the Island, be involved in Jacob and the smoke monster's agreement? Besides fearing child's fate, Ricardo would miss her company with Jacob absent as well.

Normally Jacob did not bother himself with the survival of those who were young enough to require care from an adult, but even Ricardo recognized the swiftness with which Ilana grasped new concepts, and Jacob had even taught her about the loom to occupy her with the tapestries. Ricardo suspected that she would later serve a greater purpose than just weaving when she aged further, and observed how Jacob pulled her back when she tread too close to the sea or chastised her if she wandered near the jungle on her own. However, Ricardo could not decide whether Jacob's protectiveness stemmed from genuine affection or just recognition of her future uses.

"I don't want to go," Ilana insisted, sticking out her lower lip. A single look from Jacob hushed her complaints at once, proving her remarkable obedience to him even at such a young age. Neither Jacob nor Ricardo knew how old she was, but she could not have seen more than five or six years, and only a few months at the Island. Clutching her tiny hand, Jacob led her out of the cave, and Ricardo could only watch their retreating backs.

Curiosity gripped Ricardo, as did a growing dread for what Jacob's actions suggested. As if drawn by a force other than himself, he waited until Jacob and Ilana were only spots on the horizon before venturing onto the beach and following their path into the jungle, even as he feared the consequences of defying Jacob. Though the clicks of the smoke monster were nowhere to be heard, Ricardo still could not shake the suspicion of the smoke monster in the trees that loomed over him as he tread carefully on the dry leaves beneath his feet, keeping an eye on Jacob and Ilana so he could vanish at a moment's notice if necessary. At one point, Jacob stopped walking, and every muscle in Ricardo's body froze. But Jacob must have decided he was imagining another's presence, for he soon continued.

After a walk so long that Ricardo would not have been surprised to find himself at the opposite end of the Island, Jacob stopped before a temple larger than any structure that Ricardo had seen there before. In front of the temple sat a stone altar that reminded Ricardo of the one at the Catholic church in which he grew up. Ilana's eyes darted from right to left as she studied the new area, absorbing the sights around her with a quiet concentration unusual for a young child.

Then the familiar noises of the smoke monster clicked and rattled round them, and Ricardo shut his eyes tightly and willed himself not to even twitch. Before closing his eyes, though, he caught the sight of Jacob. Shoulders squared and a slight smile on his face, he somehow radiated the definition of composure.

Without warning, Ilana yelped and tried to jerk her hand away, but Jacob glared her into silence. Startled by the sudden cry, Ricardo's eyes popped open, and he realized that Jacob's hands clasped hers so tightly that his knuckles had whitened.

"And here I thought you weren't coming."

Stepping out of the wild mass of trees, the dark-haired man approached Jacob. Though now they stood so close that their faces nearly touched, Jacob didn't balk in the slightest. "I never go back on my word."

"Of course. And you didn't tell the other one?"

"Didn't mention a single detail."

No one spoke for such a long time that Ilana's patience wore thin and she scuffed her shoes against the hard-packed dirt. The instant she moved, Ricardo noticed Jacob grimace ever so slightly.

"So tell me, Jacob—do you actually care for the girl herself, or do you only concern yourself with what she can do for you?"

Cocking his head to one side, Jacob answered, "That doesn't have anything to do with this."

"It doesn't have everything to do with this? Or do you really just see it as an obligation, and nothing more? Put her on the altar, Jacob."

Scooping her up in his arms, Jacob lifted Ilana above the altar before gently placing her on it. Gesturing for her to lie down, he guided her arms and legs so that she lay stretched out on the stone slab. Her large dark eyes blinked up at him, brown ringlets dancing faintly around her face in the light wind, but she said nothing. Had Jacob prepared her for whatever was to come, Ricardo wondered, or did she know nothing of the horrifying situation? Though Ricardo still had no way to discern the intentions of the two men (if they were men at all), he could easy guess if allowed his mind to dwell on it, but prayed to whatever god oversaw the Island that circumstances were not as dismal as they appeared.

Apparently, Jacob hoped the same. "Look, you just told me to bring her along. Why do you want her here?" When the man in black tossed a knife in Jacob's direction, he snatched it out of the air and inspected it as if looking for a trap. "You said this had to do with _me_."

"Don't play stupid, Jacob. You knew exactly what I meant when I told you where to meet me."

"It doesn't matter one way or another, because I'm not going to do it."

Arching one eyebrow in a challenge, the other man said, "You gave me your word."

"Before I knew that this had to do with her. If you have me go through with this, that would be—"

"A breach of the rules? I'll take the consequences. No matter what you do, I'm still trapped here, and no additional punishment could compare to that."

Jacob's eyes shifted from the child to the smoke monster in human form, from Ilana to the one who hated the girl's caretaker so much that he would have her killed in an effort to grieve Jacob in whatever way he could. Somehow, Ilana's face betrayed no emotion, and she did not knit her brow in confusion or tremble out of fear. In this way she completely imitated Jacob, who finally turned to the girl with the knife at his side.

Waiting all this time for either Jacob or Ilana to protest the scene unfolding before him, Ricardo slowly understood that once Jacob had given his word, there was no going back; as for Ilana, she would no doubt lay there silently even if Jacob held the knife over her at that moment. If anyone were to object, only Ricardo could be the one to do it, for whatever reason. As he watched, Ricardo's musings became clearer with the growing realization of what he had to do. But, after all, there remained nothing more that he _could_ do—was he expected to reveal himself to the smoke monster, the guiltless murderer, who in fact prepared to force a man to "sacrifice" an innocent child? Obviously, there was nothing for Ricardo to do, precisely the reason that Jacob had told him not to come in the first place. Surely he had foreseen Ricardo's desire to interfere, but to interrupt this process would accomplish nothing, and to try to convince himself of anything else was foolish, wishful thinking.

"You took the words right out of my mouth," Jacob said. "Kill this one, kill a thousand, you're still here. Looks like there's not much point to all this."

Forgetting to fear the outcome if anyone heard him, Ricardo began to pace the ground as Jacob and the other man continued to exchange words. _I've made my decision, _he told himself, _and no harm will come to me._ But the thought was not a triumphant one. Quite the opposite, the more he thought about it. Walking back and forth could no more distract his racing mind from the little girl than the sea from returning to the shore, and the tide of remorse haunted him with uncertainty. Despite all efforts, he soon wrestled with his choice in that solemn exchange between two sides of himself. There, he argued with one that said what he wanted to stifle, wrestled with its idea, listened to what he did not want to hear, and yielded to the mysterious power commanding that he reconsider.

After all, Jacob had even guaranteed Ricardo immunity from the smoke monster entirely. For that reason, and none other, did Ilana lay on that altar at all.

"Stop stalling, Jacob, and just get it over with." The man smirked, pleased to see Jacob delay so long. "Or get on your knees and beg me to come up with something else."

This time, Jacob raised the knife without hesitation. Had anyone who had not known him witnessed this display, they would not have suspected that any emotion plagued him at all. Still, his lips quivered, and his forehead dripped with sweat. But watching Jacob's eyes, which gazed steadily into Ilana's, Ricardo knew with utmost certainty that Jacob intended to carry out this horrible act, no matter how much he did not wish to.

"_¡Basta ya!_" shouted Ricardo, running up to the altar just as the knife descended. Seizing Jacob's arm, Ricardo pushed it back and then turned to grab Ilana. Pressing her to him, he said, "Only by killing me will you get her back, and that is no longer possible. Find something else for Jacob to do that does not involve the girl."

The man in black narrowed his eyes, face twisted in rage. "I can hardly hurt _him_," he said, glaring at Jacob. "Get away from her." But he could hardly make any threats, having already given his word that he would not harm Ricardo.

"What would you have accomplished in killing a child?"

When he responded, the man in black looked to his counterpart, breathing quickly as his anger visibly rose. "I wanted to see you beg, Jacob. And mark my words, I will get that much before I leave! You try to act like these people are your playthings—and maybe they are—but I'll find one you care about, and make _you_ destroy them."

With a shrug, Jacob said, "I guess we'll see." Their faces reflected the opposite of one another, the dark-haired man trembling with fury he could do nothing with, while Jacob slouched nonchalantly, eyelids drooping as if he were tired. "What do you want me to do now?"

"Get out of my sight, Jacob." A second later, the other man dissolved into a cloud of black smoke that hovered over them, waiting for Jacob to leave.

Jacob picked Ilana up and set her back on the ground. "You heard him, Ricardus." Taking Ilana's hand again, Jacob led her away from the temple and back into the jungle. This time Jacob had actually invited him to follow, and Ricardo wanted to escape the smoke monster as quickly as possible. But Ricardo still paused a moment before venturing after them, anticipating Jacob's anger for interfering when told to stay away completely.

However, Jacob said nothing for the entirety of the walk back to the shelter. The three walked in awkward silence, Jacob quiet as usual, but Ilana unusually so. Although she could listen to others for hours on end, she and Ricardo often spoke when they had the chance. As for Jacob, Ricardo could only assume that he must want to wait until the smoke monster was out of earshot to yell.

But even when they reached the cave, Jacob only entered his private chambers without a word to either of them. Lacking anything else to do, Ricardo sat in the main room. Rocking in Jacob's chair and staring at the tapestry in progress, Ricardo mulled over the implications of Jacob's actions until he noticed Ilana spinning thread on a small table to the side.

Despite her blank expression, reminiscent of Jacob's, Ricardo decided he should at least say something to her. After all, lying on an altar while a surrogate father held a knife over one's head would be enough to shake an adult. "I am sorry that you had to go through that."

Studying the cord intensely, Ilana said, "What?"

Louder this time, he said, "I am sorry that you had to—"

"I heard you, but why are you sorry?"

"Well, you must have been terrified. No child should have to face what you have been through."

One side of her mouth turned up in a tiny smile. "I wasn't scared."

"How could you not fear what might happen to you?"

To Ricardo's surprise, this time she laughed, the sound bouncing off the cave walls. "Jacob wouldn't let me get hurt. He knew you were coming. Of course he couldn't tell you to, because the other man told him not to, but he knew you'd wanna see what was going on."

Eyes wide, Ricardo demanded, "He told you this?" If it were so, then perhaps this was all part of some grand scheme—wasn't everything, on this Island?—and no harm had been done. In fact, Jacob might even be pleased that Ricardo had unknowingly fit so well into his plan.

"No. Ouch!" Having just stabbed herself with the needle on accident, Ilana sucked on the tip of her index finger. With a sigh, she returned to the thread and continued, "He tells me a lot of things, though. Secrets."

"Secrets?"

She grinned and glanced up at Ricardo. "I can't tell you, or Jacob won't tell me anymore. But he says I'm safe as long as he's alive, and he can't die."

Nodding slowly, Ricardo reminded himself that children trusted so much more quickly than adults. Perhaps that explained her unwavering belief in Jacob, regardless of her young age. But if Jacob had expected—no, _intended _for Ricardo to follow them, then why had Jacob appeared so anxious, even afraid, the previous night?

"I guess I was a little scared, just in case you actually didn't come. Jacob said not to worry, that he told you to and you would never disobey him, but you took a long time. We heard you coming, but you didn't say anything for a long time. Don't tell Jacob, but…." Ilana lowered her voice to a whisper. "He looked _really_ scared. Especially yesterday, when he hadn't figured out a plan and he thought he might really have too…." She spoke the words in awe, as if astonished that anything could rattle Jacob. "The other man would say it's because Jacob just needs me for his plans later, but he doesn't know anything. That's why he's always so mad. _I_ know more than he does." She laughed again, as if without a care in the world.

Ricardo stared at her, marveling at the complete and utter belief she had in Jacob, even when he stood over her with a knife.

That night when Jacob emerged to eat with them, Ricardo expected either an explanation or complete silence. But instead, Jacob started off the meal by saying to Ricardo, "I should really teach you how to use that loom. No use to you sitting around here waiting for others to come."

"When _will_ the others be here?" said Ilana, cutting a piece of fish. She spoke the word "others" with strange familiarity, having heard so much from Jacob about things to come that she nearly knew them already.

"In good time, Ilana."

"May I ask a question?" said Ricardo, hoping to discover more about the events of that day—how much had Jacob carefully orchestrated, why couldn't Ilana tell Ricardo what to do since Jacob couldn't inform Ricardo himself…and more than anything, he wanted to know if Jacob had genuinely feared for Ilana's life, or just worried for his future plans if Ilana was killed. Not that he could ask that outright, of course, but perhaps through the course of conversation, an answer would make itself clear.

Jacob tapped his lower lip in consideration and then shook his head. "Not today, Ricardus."


End file.
